We open up on a shot of a hand gun laying on a metal table. Laying right next to the gun is a magazine of bullets then, a set of hands come into the shot and they pick up the gun and the magazine and the set of hands loads the gun.
The scene goes black again but only for a moment but in the darkness we hear the gage being pulled back and released...
We reopen now up on the image of a promotional photo of Frank Debauchee. We pan over to the right and we then see a picture of Brent Stevenson, the same kind of photo as the image of Frank. We move over to the right one more time and we then see a promotional image of Mark Robertson. Now we pan out and see all three images side by side by side. We stay on the images of all three for a moment but then...
BANG!
Still showing all three of the images but something is different about the image of Brent Stevenson. We pan in for a closer look and we finally see what the difference is. There is a bullet hole in the center of Brent's forehead... As we focus in on the hole, a voice can now be heard.
"Brent Stevenson."
The camera now pans over to get a shot of... The Rocket!
"Brent, Brent, Brent. What you just saw is what is going to happen to you on CLASH this week and the only person you can thank for the plight that you've found yourself in is your little bad 70's pornstar look-a-like friend, Frankie D."
I turn back towards the images of Frank, Brent and Mark but instead of firing at another picture I begin taking off the glasses and head set and set them on the table in front of me.
"This business, at least for the majority of it, seems to be all about who you surround yourself. Triple H surrounded himself with Shawn Michaels, Kevin Nash, Scott Hall and Sean Waltman to form the Kliq but slowly three of those guys began falling off and moving on to be their own man with the exception of Triple H and Shawn Michaels who would go on to become DX and that's where Triple H began moving up the ladder. See he was in and around everything and I mean everything because Shawn Michaels was in the middle of it all, you can go back and look at the Montreal Screw Job and there is footage of him and Shawn in the middle of it and almost wherever Shawn went Triple H would be right there next to him. That's kind of what your like Brent, you're a lot like how Triple H was when he first got into the big pond with HBK."
I step back and lean up against the wall with my arms folded on my chest.
"The only difference is that while Frank is playing the HBK role, you are going to still be the little guy who is stuck carrying his bags, then he'll give you his leftovers from whatever disease infested stripper he's been around and doesn't want to deal with anymore. Do you see where I'm going with this? You aren't the Triple H in the scenario. You are the guy who plays second fiddle to the bigger fish and really when I call Frank the bigger fish, I'm being nice. Do you really want to be the guy that takes orders from a guy who looks like he got left behind when we moved out of the 1970's or would you like to be your own man and maybe become something, maybe you could some day become the Global Champion? Maybe you could become the TV Champion but right now, your playing second fiddle to Frankie D. Your the guy that watches his back while he steals Championships instead of winning them, You're a henchman Brent and while your with Frank that is all you'll ever be."
I nod my head up and down.
"Now granted, you are a pretty talented kid there's no denying that but the good guys in this business never got to the top being part of a stupid gimmick tag team and right now, you guys arent' even a tag team. Both of you are simply just jokes, I call it like see it and to me that's what it looks like. Let me ask you something, do you think that if you are about to lose this match that Frank would even show up to help you out? Take a second to think about it for a minute. While you do that, I already have the answer and it's not in your favor. Let me show you something else..."
I motion for the camera to follow me as I point to the image.
"When I shot that gun and aimed for your head, only to pull trigger and hit exactly, EXACTLY the spot I was aiming for... That's called a Kill Shot, any cop, robber, criminal or hunter will tell you that but it's also a bit of foreshadowing. Do you know what I call my main finisher? Take a minute to look it up, don't worry it's cool, I know you aren't that bright so take a minute to ask that fat turd of a manger... If he's not busy rubbing down Frankie D, to help you out."
The camera swings back to show me again.
"Now that you've checked it out it's called The Kill Shot and when you and I meet in that ring next Wednesday night, you can expect to get hit with that very same move and once I run right thru you like exlax ran through one of those chicks I sent to meet Frank, I will be taking back what was taken from me. It's a little plan that we have in place and it's systematic because to get to the big fish, you gotta eat the other fish and this shark is hungry for what was taken from him three weeks ago."
I pick up the gun one more time and fire it two more times. I fire one shot into the head of Mark Robertson and the other one into the crotch of Frank and I smile as I set the gun back down on the table and return to looking to the camera.
"Three weeks ago, Frank you hit me in the skull with a pink dumbbell and then you stole the Television Championship and proceeded to kiss my wife. I told you last week that I would let you focus on your little tag team match and you did just that, congrats! Because now that you've had fun with that match and you won it's all great but now, NOW you are finally, FINALLY going to get what is coming to you because I personally guarantee that you will not, I repeat, you will NOT be leaving CLASH this week with MY Championship because once I finish taking care of your boyfriends Brent and Mark all the while making sure they never amount to anything else in this company... After I finish beating the living hell out of those two jackasses, I don't care if you're in the shower because when I come to get that Championship back i'll kick your naked ass all over the damn arena!"
I calm down for a minute.
"I am sick of all the tweets, I am sick of all the stupid reference to your mustache and how good YOU think you look, and above all else I am sick and tired of YOU. For the past month or so now, you have ran me and my family down on twitter, you then did the same thing in your promo's for other matches and NOW after being off the damn show for a week and dissapointing all the fans last week I finally get the chance to come right to the arena and kick not just one ass but three asses and one of them just so happens to be yours Frank. I'm truly sick and tired of having everything I do or say revolve around you, this obsession you have with me, with my family, with MY WIFE is going to get you seriously hurt and more then likely is going wind up getting me sent to jail because I assault you on national television. You know what? I am going to take back my Championship and get it out of your nasty diseased infested hands only to put it back on the line in a match. A match against you because see what's going to happen is that we're going to have a pay per view pretty soon and I figure what better way to show what kind of Champion I am then to have a match against the one person in this whole company that I hate the most? Congrats once against Frankie D cause that guy is YOU!"
I take a deep breath and step back away from the gun.
"If management is watching this right now, I demand that they make one of the matches for this pay per view a match for the Television Championship and i'm not talking about any old ordinary match, no because that's not what this company is about and it's not what I am about, this match needs to be special, it needs to mean something and it needs to finish Frank's obsession with me and my family. The match I want should have no time limit but if it's got to then give it thirty minutes because I literally want to beat the living hell out of Frank, it's going to be brutal, it's going to hurt but I want to defend my Championship against Frank at the pay per view in a... Street Fight! Yeah, that's it! A street fight because there's no rules that can't be broken and to be honest, i'm not the kind of guy to break rules."
I look up at the camera and wink one eye. I turn my gaze towards the gun and I pick it up once again and hold it in my hands, feeling the steel and how cold it is.
"I want to beat you Frank, I want to beat you just about as much as I want to take this gun and place it inside your mouth and point it up towards your brain and pull the trigger but i'm going to save that for the pay per view. Management can see me and hear every word I say, they'll make the match I know they will and when they do... That's when the real fun begins because remember those mind games you were playing with me? I know you do because I remember them too, I remember that they didn't work so you took your frustration out on my by hitting me with that dumbbell. Congrats! you knocked a screw loose and I doubt it'll be going back in place. I'm a man of my word you see?"
I look back at the pictures and turn the gun towards them once again and this time I unload the entire gun on the images turning them into confetti.
"Wednesday night, I take back what was stolen from me. I'm coming Frankie, I'm coming to take back what you stole. First I am going to go thru Brent and Mark and when i've taken care of those morons then, THEN I am coming after you. See ya Wednesday buddy boy!"
The images fades to black but before completley fading out we hear a crazy manical laugh.
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